


With Inadequate Apologies

by Carmailo



Series: Voltron One Shots [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, i wrote it as gen but its up to yall, not klance but can be read as such if chosen, you can choose what their background relationship is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 18:18:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12041532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmailo/pseuds/Carmailo
Summary: Stiff, Keith tugs at the uncomfortable jacket Shiro had forced him into. It’s thick and chafes painfully in the July heat.If Lance were here, he’d make such a large fuss about it.





	With Inadequate Apologies

He clutches the envelope between his fingers tightly, his free hand coming up to nervously brush the hair out of his face.

No, not nervously.

With sorrow. With regret, and fear, and inadequate apologies.

They’d lost the cheerful boy.

 _He’d_ lost him.

The world had lost him.

Stiff, Keith tugs at the uncomfortable jacket Shiro had forced him into. It’s thick and chafes painfully in the July heat. Idly, he wonders how Iverson can stand to wear a similar uniform year-round, deep in the desert.

Did the Galaxy Garrison have air conditioning?

It had been so long that Keith couldn’t recall.

Again, he runs a hand through his hair, hoping he hasn’t displaced it too badly.

After a moment, Keith’s hand flits to the ends of his hair, no longer lengthy, but instead cut short, almost buzzed in an undercut.

His neck feels exposed.

Why did he cut it?

If Lance were here, he’d make such a large fuss about it.

Gritting his teeth, Keith is reminded of why he’s come here, why he’s parked in an unfamiliar driveway in a Garrison-issued vehicle, clutching letters his friend had written.

Keith was the only one who had read them before. He was the only one who was allowed to see Lance’s writing.

There were photocopies sitting on his night table, heavy with words and imitated handwriting.

The weight of the originals, tucked into a plain envelope, burn in his palm.

Keith moves his hand from his neck and to the thick package. He traces his fingers along the edges. They’re worn, like someone else had done the same action before.

Of course someone had. Keith had picked the habit up from Lance, in the wake of his loss.

Keith knows he’s not supposed to be here.

Officials from the Garrison would be visiting later that night, offering some half-truth about what had happened.

They hadn’t been there. No one had.

Except for Keith.

He’s _really_ not supposed to be doing this.

He doesn’t care anymore.

Tugging on the handle of the door, Keith steels himself for what he’s about to do. He tears the keys out of the ignition and hastily shoves them into his dress pants.

Uncomfortable. He hates them.

He slams the door shut, feeling the warmth from the sun beat down on him.

Sighing, he begins walking up the drive, recalling just how exhausted he’s been, and just how taxing the last while has been.

Through it all, he’d felt numb. Tired and numb, and not much else.

As he raps his knuckles against the door, he is unfeeling.

A child, no older than nine or ten, opens the door. “Hello!” he anounces cheerfully.

Keith squats down the the child’s level, his pants riding up to expose his socks. “Hi,” Keith says, trying to muster a smile. He can’t, so he leaves it at the the corners of his mouth being lifted.

“Wait a second…” the child squints. And then he snaps his fingers. “You’re on TV, mister!”

Keith bristles. That’s right- the press conference they’d been forced into was probably airing right about now. He’d come straight from it. “Yeah, I am,” Keith says softly. “Mind getting your parents?”

The child nods before taking off into the house. “Mami! The guy from TV wants to talk to you!”

Keith straightens as Leo returns, tugging a young woman into view.

She stops laughing at her child when she sees Keith, shoulders dropping. “You and your associates have no business at our home. Not until you quit lying.” Her words come out tipped with venom, and if Keith weren’t so numb, he’s sure it would strike a chord in him.

“I’m Keith. I'm here about Lance. I’m not with the Garrison. Are you Missus McClain?” Keith’s words leave his mouth, painted in monotones.

The woman’s features soften, and she starts to formulate a response. “No. I’ll... I’ll get my mother… please, come in.”

“Thanks,” Keith says, stepping into the foyer. Leo races around him to shut the door.

As Leo’s mother leaves, calling for her own mother, Leo rounds on Keith. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Keith.” he doesn’t mention that he’s already said it.

“Leo,” the boy sticks out his hand for a shake. Keith takes it. “Why do you look so sad?”

Keith pauses. He doesn’t have a response. “Hey, Leo, you said I was on TV, right?” he says instead.

“Yeah!”

“Mind turning it off, or changing the channels?”

“Why?” he blinks, the picture of innocence.

“Could you? Please?” Leo considers for a moment before nodding and running off again. A moment later, the sound of the TV changes, no longer camera flashes and somber talking, but instead now the tinny sounds of an obnoxious children’s show.

“You are Keith?”

Keith’s eye refocus, and he sees the woman standing in front of him. She’s tall, thin, probably around the same height as Keith, and her skin is the same warm tone as Lance’s. In her hands, she clutches a dishtowel, wiping water from her fingers. Her hands are worn, covered in burn scars and fine lines. There are lines on her face, too. Heavy ones, from where’s she’s no doubt been smiling. Right now, she seems concerned. Keith wants to see her smile.

“Yes,” he manages. “I’m here about Lance. The people at the Garrison don’t know I’m here, and I really shouldn’t be, but…” he can’t say it. He won’t just blurt out the reason he’s here without telling the entire story first.

A beat passes between them.

“ _Tus ojos…_ ” Missus McClain pauses, taking the boy in. So quickly that Keith doesn’t register it, she crosses the space between them and tucks him into a hug. “You have seen so much, my child...” she murmurs.

Keith doesn’t return the hug. He can’t. Because he feels the numbness he’s surrounded himself in melting away, feels himself tire of hiding his emotions and lying to himself that he _doesn’t care, it’s over, and he’s just fine._

Tears prick at his eyes, and he finds himself burying his face into Lance’s mother’s shoulder. Her hands, worn from caring for her family, come to hold him close, one hand on the back of his head, the other still slung around his neck.

He looks over her shoulder, sees Lance’s sister’s brow furrow. But he can’t meet her gaze, so he averts his eyes, stares at the ground instead.

Hands shaking, he reaches up to hug the woman back, hands finding her shoulders in an unfamiliar way.

He has known this woman for all of three minutes, but she understands him, she sees him, and knows. Sees his inner turmoil, sees the sadness etched into his nonchalant features, sees the way his eyes flit from thing to thing, the irises haunted with death, and violence, and _war_.

Mother’s touch, huh.

“Please stay with us awhile, Keith. Take your time to share your story. We will listen.” her voice is unwavering, but Keith can tell she already understands why he’s here.

“Thanks,” he sniffs, pulling out of the hug. Tugging his tightly fitted sleeve over the back of his hand, Keith wipes at his eyes a moment.

“Isa, can you take Keith to the family room? _Estaré allí en un minuto._ ”

‘Uh- yeah. C’mon, Keith.” Isa waves him over, and the paladin is baffled by the ease in the gesture, as though he’s a family member.

“Coming,” Keith says, following after Isa.

“I’m Isabel,” she starts as the boy catches up, “that’s my son, Leo. So much bigger than when Lance saw him last.” Leo runs past as if to prove her point.

“He’s really sweet,” Keith says. He think he would smile fondly, if he wasn’t trying to school his emotions back into submission.

“Mm…” Isabel nods. “Come, sit. Want anything to drink?”

Keith’s stomach turns at the thought of food, even liquids. After eating Coran’s paladin goo for so long, he couldn’t seem to adjust back to Earth foods properly. Even the water they’d drank in space had been different - regular water wouldn’t stay down either.

He wonders if it’s the food, or if it’s his mind, insisting he needs to suffer for what he’s allowed to be stolen from the world.

He shakes his head, grimacing. Isabel laughs softly, and she sits on the end of the sofa, tucking her legs under herself. “Please, sit.” she prompts.

Keith moves to the couch and sits down, careful not to damage the thick package in his hands. It’s already falling apart… he doesn’t want to hand it over to the family in shambles. Fingers still shaking, he tucks it into his jacket pocket.

“ _Lo siento,_ ” Missus McClain enters the room, “I had something to attend to.”

Keith studies her face. Her eyes are rimmed with pink. She must have figured it out. At Keith’s gaze, she gives him a sad smile.

“I’m sorry for intruding-”

“No. Keith, you have come all this way to tell me about my son. You have come with good reason.” she holds up a hand to silence him as she crosses the room, coming to sit next to Keith. She gives him his space, and for that, he’s thankful.

Keith is quiet a moment, processing her words. He swallows thickly and nods. “Lance… Your son,” Keith is struck again by the realization that he was sitting in a room with people who had known Lance his entire life. “Is… a very selfless person.”

Missus McClain smiles fondly. Isabel laughs a little bit. “That, he is.” she agrees softly.

“He has saved my life, countless times. He’s kept me from throwing our team into bad places. He… Lance is a very important person to me.” Keith continues.

He breaks off. How can he ease into the topic? _It’d be pretty awkward._ Lance’s words drift into his head. _To tell someone that._

A few moments pass, and he forces himself to speak again. He’ll start from the beginning. Carefully, Keith recounts the tale of their first day as paladins, tells Isa and her mother about blue, and Allura, and Coran. For the most part, the world already has knowledge on the paladins of Voltron. The McClains would have found out anyways, but Keith is glad he gets to tell them first.

“And after that, the five- no, seven - of us started defending the universe. We freed a lot of planets and civilizations.”

Lance’s mother looks proud, and Isa looks righteous, as though she’d always known Lance would doing something great in life. Keith tells them about how great Lance had been at long-range combat, how he’d sharpened his skills with Keith, and _if you were to see him now, you wouldn’t even recognise him._ But soon, he is faced with telling the story he’d come here to tell.

“On our last battle… We were just about to secure the victory - just about to make the universe a better, safer place. I was with Lance. We thought we’d gotten everyone, but really, a few soldiers had gotten away. They fired this… light-canon at me, but I didn’t see it- Lance-” Keith drops his words, voice cracking. He inhales shakily. “Lance shoved me out of the way. He took the hit.” Isabel gasps beside him, and Missus McClain reaches up to grip his shoulder.

“When I took out the last few Galra, he was… he was- his eyes-” tears moisten in Keith’s eyes, and he feels them gather on his eyelashes as his vision blurs. “He told me,” he continues, voice watery and shaking, “that he wanted his mother to make him those stupid garlic knots he loved so much- he wanted to come home and see his family- he missed you all so much- and Veradero beach- he wanted to go there-”

Lance’s mother pulls him to her side. There are tears trailing down her cheeks as she chews on her lower lip, fighting off the sadness she feels.

“Oh, Keith…” Isabel sighs, moving across the sofa to take his arm and rest her head on his shoulder.

“I- I wasn’t fast enough- it was _my_ fault, I wasn’t watching- I’m so _sorry,_ ” he bursts, the tears in his eyes finally sliding down his cheeks. He drops his face in his hand.

“My child,” begins Missus McClain, placing one of those love-worn hands on his face and drawing his attention, “it is _not_ your fault. The blame does not go to you or him. Lance…” her voice breaks on his name, “made a decision. He knew what he was doing. I know my son does not regret his decision one bit. But,” she pauses, fixing Keith with a stern look, even as her lips quiver and tears stain her cheeks, “he will, if you give up. If any of us give up.” she says, voice soft, distant.

Keith nods heavily, throat still choked up. “I wanted to tell you the truth before those officials come and lie.” he says, hastily wiping away the tears in his eyes.

“Thank you,” Isabel says, hugging Keith around the neck, “I know you weren’t supposed to.”

“He wrote some notes while he was in space. I… I brought them with me. All the originals.” Keith says, “even some of the ones addressed to people who aren’t in his family. I thought… I thought you should have them.” Keith mumbles, waiting for Isabel to pull back before he pulls the package from his jacket.

Lance’s mother reaches forward and takes it, cradling it carefully in her hands. Her son’s last words, packaged up neatly in an envelope that cannot fit all of them. There are words that were said on Lance’s last breath that he never got the chance to write.

Keith supposes that’s okay - he won’t be forgetting them anytime soon.

That night, after a long evening with Lance’s family, after an even longer drive to his new apartment, after shucking off the uncomfortable uniform, he falls asleep, for the first time, without reading his letter.

**Author's Note:**

> I started this like four days ago and couldn't find the right way to tie it up, so that's why the ending is so weird
> 
> anyways  
> inspiration hit and I wrote this. I might make this part of a separate series, never know  
> but for now  
> just a oneshot


End file.
